I am bidding farewell to my beloved VW Convertible Beetle at the end of the month. While it is going to a good a home, I am not looking forward to parting with what has become a defining piece of me.
Or so I thought.
We bought a 2007 Buick Rendevouz a few weeks ago, a compromise I begrudgingly made. Hell had to freeze over, thaw out and then freeze again before I agreed to a minivan, the blazing badge of suburban motherhood. (I feared that our GPS would only take us to soccer fields and PTA meetings.) It's black, kind of sporty, has tinted back windows and in excellent condition.
As much as I want to hate it, I actually enjoy driving it.
I am no longer a tiny speck on the road. True, I enjoyed watching people punch each other when I drove by, but the Buick gives me real sense of power. Compared to the Beetle, I sit so high above the road I feel like I am flying a plane (sadly, The Saint refuses to wear a flight attendant uniform or serve me coffee while I am pilo-...driving).
And I no longer stick out. I blend, which means if someone cuts me off, I can tailgate, flip them off and then disappear in traffic. No more pretending to be a nice, peace-loving hippie chick. The bitch is back! But only when I am driving solo, of course. I would never do that with babies in the car.
I will wait until they are five and can truly appreciate the colorful language and high speeds.....
- The 2nd Mommy
Sunday, October 9, 2011
Sunday, October 2, 2011
I Like Captions
Here is a glimpse of why Andrew and Cooper will have baby books and photo albums that are actually somewhat entertaining: photo captions!
Andrew is bringing sexy back. Cooper isn't so sure.
Cooper is at that adorable stage where he will eat anything!
Every time a binky is used, an angel gets his wings.
Andrew, the cunning international pacifier thief, always waits for his victims to fall asleep before he strikes!
Cooper Claus!
Um, this Santa has had one too many...
-The 2nd Mommy
Andrew is bringing sexy back. Cooper isn't so sure.
Cooper is at that adorable stage where he will eat anything!
Every time a binky is used, an angel gets his wings.
Andrew, the cunning international pacifier thief, always waits for his victims to fall asleep before he strikes!
Cooper Claus!
Um, this Santa has had one too many...
-The 2nd Mommy
Sunday, September 25, 2011
Life Has Changed - Part 1
New parents often like to talk about how much their life truly has changed since their little bundle(s) of joy arrived. They dither on about shifting priorities, new hopes and dreams, a new appreciation for the simple things in life, and various other bumper stickers and cliches.
Truth be told, I have had those moments as well. I love being a mom. I waited a long time to be a mom and I am savoring those precious moments that I know will end as soon as puberty hits. But motherhood isn't all rainbows and unicorns.
Rainbows need rain. And I assume even unicorns make a mess from time to time. Parenthood is not always a joyous, uplifting endeavor. It can be frustrating, agonizing and stressful.
So how am I really, truly different this week? Because I now consider this the best text message I have ever received:
Cooper finally pooped.
Hello, parenthood. It's nice to meet you.
- The 2nd Mommy
Truth be told, I have had those moments as well. I love being a mom. I waited a long time to be a mom and I am savoring those precious moments that I know will end as soon as puberty hits. But motherhood isn't all rainbows and unicorns.
Rainbows need rain. And I assume even unicorns make a mess from time to time. Parenthood is not always a joyous, uplifting endeavor. It can be frustrating, agonizing and stressful.
So how am I really, truly different this week? Because I now consider this the best text message I have ever received:
Cooper finally pooped.
Hello, parenthood. It's nice to meet you.
- The 2nd Mommy
Sunday, September 18, 2011
The Emotional Rollercoaster Called Motherhood
I am hoping it is the sleep deprivation but my emotions have been all over the place since the boys have arrived.
Generally speaking, I was once a pretty mellow kind of gal. A dear friend and former roomie (hi, Mo - miss you!) once declared that if I were any more laid back, I'd be horizontal. Sadly, I am just a basket of nerves now and horizontal is a position I am rarely in. Instead, I have been stuck in an emotional wasteland that I fear every mother must visit at some point in order to fully earn the title.
The worst pitstop on this journey is guilt. The boys are just over a month and I have already established residency in this state. The worst: when Cooper received a shot at the doctor's office this past week. I knew it would be awful because of the crying but I was not prepared for what happened when he stopped crying. He suddenly looked up at me with the biggest eyes and the saddest look on his face and I am pretty sure he asked, "Why, mama? Why have you forsaken me?" I have never felt so horrible in my life. Instead of a college fund, I am putting away money for their future therapist.
The paranoia is no picnic, either. Everything scares me now. We actually got a mosquito net (thanks, Hillary M.) for the stroller! We look like a rolling ad for an anti-malaria campaign. I feel like we are traveling through the DMZ in Vietnam every time we go out but I couldn't find a bulletproof canopy a la the Pope mobile, so the net will have to do.
And then there is the happy couple: doubt and fear, the constant companions of new mothers everywhere. The list is too long for this blog but the latest fear is centered around eating. One day, it seems like they are eating too much. Their heads have gotten so big that they actually look like floats for the Macy's Thanksgiving Day parade (albeit the CUTEST floats ever). Andrew squeaks, sniffles and chortles so much during his feedings that it often feels like Baby Gollum at the other end of the bottle. I am waiting for him to grab it from my hands, caress it and start referring to it as my precioussssss. But other days, it seems like they are the tiniest creatures in the world and they have little to no interest in eating at their usual times, which also keep changing. We even tried to do an Excel spreadsheet to figure out a pattern but my not-so-beautiful mind couldn't figure it out.
And this just leads us right back to guilt. Apparently, we are on a roundabout of motherhood....
- The 2nd Mommy
Generally speaking, I was once a pretty mellow kind of gal. A dear friend and former roomie (hi, Mo - miss you!) once declared that if I were any more laid back, I'd be horizontal. Sadly, I am just a basket of nerves now and horizontal is a position I am rarely in. Instead, I have been stuck in an emotional wasteland that I fear every mother must visit at some point in order to fully earn the title.
The worst pitstop on this journey is guilt. The boys are just over a month and I have already established residency in this state. The worst: when Cooper received a shot at the doctor's office this past week. I knew it would be awful because of the crying but I was not prepared for what happened when he stopped crying. He suddenly looked up at me with the biggest eyes and the saddest look on his face and I am pretty sure he asked, "Why, mama? Why have you forsaken me?" I have never felt so horrible in my life. Instead of a college fund, I am putting away money for their future therapist.
The paranoia is no picnic, either. Everything scares me now. We actually got a mosquito net (thanks, Hillary M.) for the stroller! We look like a rolling ad for an anti-malaria campaign. I feel like we are traveling through the DMZ in Vietnam every time we go out but I couldn't find a bulletproof canopy a la the Pope mobile, so the net will have to do.
And then there is the happy couple: doubt and fear, the constant companions of new mothers everywhere. The list is too long for this blog but the latest fear is centered around eating. One day, it seems like they are eating too much. Their heads have gotten so big that they actually look like floats for the Macy's Thanksgiving Day parade (albeit the CUTEST floats ever). Andrew squeaks, sniffles and chortles so much during his feedings that it often feels like Baby Gollum at the other end of the bottle. I am waiting for him to grab it from my hands, caress it and start referring to it as my precioussssss. But other days, it seems like they are the tiniest creatures in the world and they have little to no interest in eating at their usual times, which also keep changing. We even tried to do an Excel spreadsheet to figure out a pattern but my not-so-beautiful mind couldn't figure it out.
And this just leads us right back to guilt. Apparently, we are on a roundabout of motherhood....
- The 2nd Mommy
Sunday, September 11, 2011
One Month Down
We have survived our first month.
I used to laugh to myself when I heard new parents say this, wondering why they were so smug and pleased with themselves about surviving one single month with a child (or children) who were obviously going to be there a lot longer than that. My God, they hadn't even hit the hard parts yet (potty training, preschool, teen years, the sex talk, etc.) and already they were celebrating?!!??! One month isn't enough time to see how much therapy your kid is going to need down the road because you laughed at their decoupage ashtray! Your job hasn't even started yet, so why the hell are you patting yourself on the back??!
I was so naive. I now include you in my toast to the parents who do make it that first month with their sanity more or less intact.
Here is to learning how to survive and thrive on less sleep than you thought was humanly possible. The Saint and I no longer sleep; we take snaps (short sleep time + nap = snap). We are pleased to say that sleep deprivation has not gotten the best of us....except the other night when I thought the extra pillow in our bed was our third child and panicked when I realized I was sleeping on "him." Or the night I drove to Target and forgot how I got there, where I parked the car and what I went there for. Or the night I almost forgot to feed Cooper as we sat in the chair together staring blankly in the dark, the bottle limply dangly in my hand. Ok, sleep deprivation has not killed any of us.
Here is to mastering the art of the big blue poo sausage courtesy of the diaper genie. I can pack those plastic baggies so tight you can bounce a bottle off of them. I hope the folks digging through our trash the other night were impressed with my camouflaging skills and that they hit every single toxic diaper that was in there. Good luck getting the smell out of your truck if you accidentally loaded one up.
Here is to shifting priorities and understanding what is really important in life. There is nothing more zen than rocking a baby in total silence, just being there for this new little life. (Ok, I may have peeked at my iPad once or twice but not nearly as much as I used to.). Here is to finally understanding what it means to live in the now and enjoy the moment.
Here is to embracing the hardest job on earth and loving every second of it...
- The 2nd Mommy
I used to laugh to myself when I heard new parents say this, wondering why they were so smug and pleased with themselves about surviving one single month with a child (or children) who were obviously going to be there a lot longer than that. My God, they hadn't even hit the hard parts yet (potty training, preschool, teen years, the sex talk, etc.) and already they were celebrating?!!??! One month isn't enough time to see how much therapy your kid is going to need down the road because you laughed at their decoupage ashtray! Your job hasn't even started yet, so why the hell are you patting yourself on the back??!
I was so naive. I now include you in my toast to the parents who do make it that first month with their sanity more or less intact.
Here is to learning how to survive and thrive on less sleep than you thought was humanly possible. The Saint and I no longer sleep; we take snaps (short sleep time + nap = snap). We are pleased to say that sleep deprivation has not gotten the best of us....except the other night when I thought the extra pillow in our bed was our third child and panicked when I realized I was sleeping on "him." Or the night I drove to Target and forgot how I got there, where I parked the car and what I went there for. Or the night I almost forgot to feed Cooper as we sat in the chair together staring blankly in the dark, the bottle limply dangly in my hand. Ok, sleep deprivation has not killed any of us.
Here is to mastering the art of the big blue poo sausage courtesy of the diaper genie. I can pack those plastic baggies so tight you can bounce a bottle off of them. I hope the folks digging through our trash the other night were impressed with my camouflaging skills and that they hit every single toxic diaper that was in there. Good luck getting the smell out of your truck if you accidentally loaded one up.
Here is to shifting priorities and understanding what is really important in life. There is nothing more zen than rocking a baby in total silence, just being there for this new little life. (Ok, I may have peeked at my iPad once or twice but not nearly as much as I used to.). Here is to finally understanding what it means to live in the now and enjoy the moment.
Here is to embracing the hardest job on earth and loving every second of it...
- The 2nd Mommy
Sunday, September 4, 2011
Oh, The Places They Will Go
My Dad likes to tell the story of how he once was changing my diaper and had to lift my naked little body up to straighten out the clothes he was attempting to put on me. As he carefully cradled me, I shit in his hand (sorry, Mom: defecated in his metacarpals).
I thought of this the other night when one of the boys (it's so hard to tell which one at 3:00 am) launched a load of poo across the changing table and onto the lovely Dr. Seuss diaper caddy we got to keep us organized and supposedly prevent such occurrences. And then the book Oh, The Places You Will Go popped into my head but with a very different meaning. The following is a piece of what went through my mind:
You have been here for just 3 weeks
And already you've sprung some leaks.
You hit the shades, the wall and ceiling
You hit my nose and sent me reeling.
You hit your mouth and caught your breath
Which nearly scared my half to death.
But I am sure, as we both well know,
These are not the only places you will go.
I imagine the day will come
Where you will want to bare your bum
And stand upon the deck outside
To launch a stream at full stride.
Or when we're traveling in the car
To places that are distances quite far,
You will announce, after the rest area we just passed,
"Um, I don't think that was just gas."
These are but a few of the places you will go.
And I can tell you this for a fact,
Though the subject lacks in tact,
One day you will find yourself stuck in school
Where bodily functions just aren't cool
But trust me, sons: don't try to keep it in
Your pants are the worst place for urine.
(But sadly, this may be a place where you will go.)
I am sure you will go at least once in bed
(I hope it doesn't land on your brother's head.)
I bet you will go in a lake
Perhaps in a cup and a urinal cake.
If you ever travel with grandma in her car,
I know you'll go in a mayo jar
As this is a spot where all her grandchildren go.
But then one day that will come too fast
All of this will be in the past.
Pretty soon, this potty thing will be a breeze
And you will go with great ease.
Then shortly after, you will be grown.
It will be time for you to be on your own.
And though you think that you are too old
I will still want to know
About all the places where you go.
- The 2nd Mommy
I thought of this the other night when one of the boys (it's so hard to tell which one at 3:00 am) launched a load of poo across the changing table and onto the lovely Dr. Seuss diaper caddy we got to keep us organized and supposedly prevent such occurrences. And then the book Oh, The Places You Will Go popped into my head but with a very different meaning. The following is a piece of what went through my mind:
You have been here for just 3 weeks
And already you've sprung some leaks.
You hit the shades, the wall and ceiling
You hit my nose and sent me reeling.
You hit your mouth and caught your breath
Which nearly scared my half to death.
But I am sure, as we both well know,
These are not the only places you will go.
I imagine the day will come
Where you will want to bare your bum
And stand upon the deck outside
To launch a stream at full stride.
Or when we're traveling in the car
To places that are distances quite far,
You will announce, after the rest area we just passed,
"Um, I don't think that was just gas."
These are but a few of the places you will go.
And I can tell you this for a fact,
Though the subject lacks in tact,
One day you will find yourself stuck in school
Where bodily functions just aren't cool
But trust me, sons: don't try to keep it in
Your pants are the worst place for urine.
(But sadly, this may be a place where you will go.)
I am sure you will go at least once in bed
(I hope it doesn't land on your brother's head.)
I bet you will go in a lake
Perhaps in a cup and a urinal cake.
If you ever travel with grandma in her car,
I know you'll go in a mayo jar
As this is a spot where all her grandchildren go.
But then one day that will come too fast
All of this will be in the past.
Pretty soon, this potty thing will be a breeze
And you will go with great ease.
Then shortly after, you will be grown.
It will be time for you to be on your own.
And though you think that you are too old
I will still want to know
About all the places where you go.
- The 2nd Mommy
Sunday, August 28, 2011
Song of the New Parent
I am a new parent.
The first thing you will notice is I no longer have eyes but rather two puffy slits to see through. The word exhausted does not do justice to the way I feel because frankly, I feel nothing. I am in a perpetual haze of feeding, burping, soothing and cleaning. I drove to Target the other day and couldn't remember how I got there. A drunk driver in a Pinto with three raccoons would have been safer on the road.
I am a new parent.
Any sense of fashion has been totally discarded. If my shirt and pants are relatively spittle and pee free, then they are good enough to wear. If my teeth have been brushed in the past 72 hours, I am good to go. A shower now means jumping in some running water for three seconds and then getting dressed. If I get to dry off, that is a bonus. The fact that I simply haven't shaved my hair off should be taken as a good sign.
I am a new parent.
I have no idea what day it is. I thought Irene was a new singer a la Adele or the late Amy Winehouse. I am amazed at how much time I wasted when I was not a parent. If I had that time back, I could write a novel, scale Mt. Everest and become a mixed martial arts champ before 6:00 pm. Now I am lucky if I get to use the bathroom with the door closed.
I am a new parent.
I have never been so happy nor loved anyone this fiercely. I have never been so excited to have someone grab my finger or make mewing noises whilst I feed him. I have never simply just sat in silence and soaked in another being for hours on end. I am happy to unplug for an entire day if it means I get to see a 30 second smile.
I am a new parent. And each day gets better and better.
Today, I even got to finish -
- The 2nd Mommy
The first thing you will notice is I no longer have eyes but rather two puffy slits to see through. The word exhausted does not do justice to the way I feel because frankly, I feel nothing. I am in a perpetual haze of feeding, burping, soothing and cleaning. I drove to Target the other day and couldn't remember how I got there. A drunk driver in a Pinto with three raccoons would have been safer on the road.
I am a new parent.
Any sense of fashion has been totally discarded. If my shirt and pants are relatively spittle and pee free, then they are good enough to wear. If my teeth have been brushed in the past 72 hours, I am good to go. A shower now means jumping in some running water for three seconds and then getting dressed. If I get to dry off, that is a bonus. The fact that I simply haven't shaved my hair off should be taken as a good sign.
I am a new parent.
I have no idea what day it is. I thought Irene was a new singer a la Adele or the late Amy Winehouse. I am amazed at how much time I wasted when I was not a parent. If I had that time back, I could write a novel, scale Mt. Everest and become a mixed martial arts champ before 6:00 pm. Now I am lucky if I get to use the bathroom with the door closed.
I am a new parent.
I have never been so happy nor loved anyone this fiercely. I have never been so excited to have someone grab my finger or make mewing noises whilst I feed him. I have never simply just sat in silence and soaked in another being for hours on end. I am happy to unplug for an entire day if it means I get to see a 30 second smile.
I am a new parent. And each day gets better and better.
Today, I even got to finish -
- The 2nd Mommy
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